24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
My home & native land,
complete with brotherly love
& a pretty decent setup for
which i am grateful.
With hopeful eyes,
we see the next generation
& hope for better.
From far & wide, they break their backs
in search of a superior way of life
for them & their loved ones.
That’s why we strive to keep it all incandescent &
free
stopping at nothing to defend what’s ours.
4pm. Poem 14
What is Love? (Redacted)
Love is a list (redacted).
Love is my children
and grandchildren,
my Lucy Watusi Kitty,
all the bills paid,
and a little (redacted) over.
Love is gratitude
and (redacted) cross legged
on my big, old, soft bed.
Love is (redacted)!
All my (redacted)!
All the (redacted)!
Love is guiltless
personal (redacted)
really good dark chocolate
orange toenail color
feral chickens (redacted)
right outside my bedroom window.
Love is
the gurgle speak of Iao Stream
chit chatting down to the ocean.
Love is autonomy
and nonjudgment
and cherry chapstick…
but, that doesn’t make much (redacted).
All these things are things I love
not what love is.
So, what is love?
Love is letting things and beings
be who and what they are as long as they aren’t hurting anyone else in their process…
Yeah, that’s what love is.
Not very poetic, though.
Let’s try again…
Love is the ache
in my ancient (redacted)
for crows and trains
and Mom and Dad.
Love is
the desparate hollow of my arms
where my grandbabies slept before the blast and splatter.
Love is (redacted)
that I will know those things
again someday.
Love is (redacted).
Yeah… love is (redacted).
.
Sometimes I see a story
In a single blade of grass
Or reflection of a dusty glass
Sometimes it’s just silence
A vast and empty space
And emptier glass-eyed face
Sometimes I lose nothing to this
And zone away for days
And it matters not what anyone says
Sometimes but not always
It happens in a quiet place
Like this little block of city
I stare at my phone
And write abandoned to my fate
A show no one would come to see
Dancing on the gazebo in gaudy rhinestones
Making fools of ourselves in public
Drawing on our faces with black lipstick
Late nights talking to strangers
Staying up to watch the sunrise
Streaking down the street
Sitting in a parked limousine
Laying on a cloudy beach
Taking candid photographs of each other
Walking hand in hand
Wearing each other’s clothes
Jumping over fences
Dying hair red with nothing but sugar
Silly Halloween costumes
Dinosaur boob tattoos
Boxes made for the love of each other
It was never meant to last
But how sweet it was
In hindsight
I can’t do this poem.
I don’t know how to start a poem I would redact for changed meaning.
Time is simply flying by and I can’t put a single word on the page. Sorry.
I tried.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
For two days Facebook made me
look engaged,
but I’m not
still single.
It was a game
when I hit a button
and it would tell me
how my 2023 would end
ENGAGED in bold letters
it read
and that’s all my friends saw.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
The piles of hearts comments
and Congratulations wishes poured in.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
At first I assumed
it was my poetry Haiku award,
I was being congratulated for.
Then I saw it
the picture with the oversized ring
and it looked like my hand.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
Then there was my profile picture
from a Meet and Greet with Jason Cerbone
aka Jackie Aprile Jr on The Sopranos.
We looked like a couple happy with our smiles
except he’s married and has a daughter.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single
like a newspaper headline
or billboard announcement.
I have the best Facebook friends
for thinking I’m a good enough catch
for Jason Cerbone.
I’m not engaged
I’m not
still single.
#1: I’m Late
I’m late! I’m late!
Shit, I forgot it was today.
The fear running through my body
Makes my fingers tap, tap away.
As fast as they can tap.
We have to close a big gap!
Hour 2
My first memory of friendship
First memory of joy
First memory of togetherness
And also first memory of rivalry
He is only one and a half younger
My brother, much ahead of me
He always makes me wonder by his talks
He always makes me proud by his deeds
Although younger he is more mature than me
Many a times I turn to him for advice
Always ready to help others
The most selfless soul I ever saw
He gives me strength
He gives me courage
I know he will be there for me
He is the one ‘forever’
Rashmi S Kurup
Trailing you along life's path through your trials and tribulations I learn about me and my failures and impossible situations Mirror, mirror shows me more than I could ever learn from a book you let me know through your hook that I am just a soulful thief Stealing from you my expectations pushing you far from your desire toward my illusion I release you to be brighter